Band Of The Hand (it's Hell Time Man!)

Bob Dylan

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



Down these streets the fools rule

There's no freedom or self respect,

A knife's point or a trip to the joint

Is about all you can expect.



They kill people here who stand up for their rights,

The system's just too damned corrupt

It's always the same, the name of the game

Is who do you know higher up.



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



The blacks and the whites,

The idiotic, the exotic,

Wealth is a filthy rag

So erotic so unpatriotic

So wrapped up in the American flag.



Witchcraft scum exploiting the dumb,

Turning children into punks and slaves

Whose heroes and healers are rich drug dealers

Who should be put in their graves.



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



Listen to me Mr. Pussyman

This might be your last night in a bed so soft

We're not pimps on the make, politicians on the take,

You can't pay us off.



We're gonna blow up your home of Voodoo

And watch it burn without any regret

We got the power we're the new government,

You just don't know it yet.



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



For all of my brothers from Vietnam

And my uncles from World War II,

I'd like to say that it's countdown time now

And we're gonna do what the law should do.



And for you pretty baby,

I know you've seen it all.

I know your story is too painful to share.

One day though you'll be talking in your sleep

And when you do, I wanna be there.



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand



Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

B

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